


Queen

by Tat_Tat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blackmail, F/F, F/M, Femdom, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3284558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tat_Tat/pseuds/Tat_Tat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pacifica discovers the twins’ incestuous relationship and blackmails them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on the to do list for quite awhile. Threesomes are hard.

I want you to show me," Pacifica said, gaze fixed on the twins.

Dipper shifted uncomfortably from next to the bookcase, pretending to read a book and ignoring her. Mabel elbowed him and he fumbled for the book.

It dropped, sliding across the floor until it halted at the sharp point of Pacifica's heels. "I didn't think I would have to reiterate this, considering that you are the smarter of the two." She flipped her hair over her shoulder, gold hoop earrings jingling like windchimes. "I'm blackmailing you. It's a simple transaction. Even your sister will understand."

"What do you want?" Dipper crossed his arms, glaring.

"You're dating each other," Pacifica said plainly.

Dipper's aggression dropped from his face, surprise and fear taking over his features. Before he could ask how she knew, or deny it, Pacifica continued, chortling behind her hand. 

"Money doesn't just cover things up-- it uncovers secrets as well."

Mabel's voice was strangely soft and wary. "We get it, okay. What do you want from us?" There was a bit of a bite inflicted at the end of the sentence. Mabel was Pacifica's rival, not Dipper's, and she felt somewhat responsible for all this. Not that she'd provoked this -- Pacifica was nearly always the instigator. Whatever the circumstances, she hated to drag Dipper-- and their relationship-- into it.

"Show me." Pacifica leaned back in her plush violet chair, crossing one leg over the other, ankle bouncing against her knee. 

"Show you what?" Dipper asked, though in the back of his mind he had a strong suspicion that he already knew. 

For a brief moment, a striking shade of pink swept over Pacifica's cheeks. She idly wrapped her hand around the bottle of wine at her side, and very nearly knocked it over when she chanced a glance directly over the twin's faces. She swallowed hard and dropped her hand, elegantly placing it in her lap. She moved her gaze away from their eyes, looking past their shoulders at the bookcase behind them. 

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" she snapped.

"Yes." Dipper grinned, sensing he was gaining the upper hand.

"Fine then. I want you to have sex." 

Once the words left her she felt like her heart had stopped. She was frantic, wondering if they would listen to her, and if they did, what then? Of course, as a Northwest, she always got what she wanted. But for once in her life, she wasn't sure how she was going to handle it when it happened.

Mabel let out a sigh of relief. "That's all? Whew! I was worried you were asking Dipper to show you his internet history.” 

"Mabel!" Dipper hissed.

“I was concerned,” Mabel said, shivering slightly at the memories.

“I’ve already seen it.” 

Dipper flinched under the Pacifica’s smirk and she was happy to have the upper hand again. She stood up, procuring three wine glasses from the table nearby and filling the glasses with a rich burgundy wine. 

“Since I know you’ll agree to my terms, here's a little something to loosen your nerves.”

Mabel took both glasses, handing one of them to Dipper, who grudgingly took the drink but chugged right through it as soon as it hit his lips. Pacifica immediately refilled his glass, but was careful to offer him less this this time. 

Pacifica turned to Mabel and caught her staring. Mabel jumped slightly, then relaxed, giving a cheery smile as she raised her glass to her. 

Mabel sipped her drink, peering over her glass at the blonde again. A dozen questions flashed through her mind, but she was unsure where to start. Mabel had thought it strange that after sharing a moment on the mini golf course years ago that Pacifica was still as abrasive and competitive as ever. It had hurt Mabel because she had warmed up to Pacifica as a friend and she thought the other girl had cast their differences aside also. However, she seemed more distant and more callous. It all didn’t make sense. At least, not until Mabel found the glass tube with a label that simply said Pacifica.

Pacifica had forgotten everything thanks to her father and the Blind Eye Society, and while Mabel wasn’t one to hold a grudge, she certainly started to hold one for Pacifica’s father. 

Dipper had told her not to get hung up on it. “Why do you even want to be friends with her?” 

That was the final question that settled in Mabel’s mind. She wanted to say it was for the sake of friendship, but seeing Pacifica, long and lithe in her square white blazer and pencil skirt, she could no longer deny that it was more than that. She had felt something back then. Camaraderie, shared surprise meals in the backseat of the car. It was a short moment, but years afterwards she held it within her, remembering each detail because Pacifica couldn’t remember anymore.

Underneath all the blackmail and snide comments towards her and her brother, Mabel caught the strain of loneliness in the heiress’s voice. Mabel still didn’t like that Pacifica had targeted her brother and their relationship, but she also couldn’t stay completely mad at her, aware that Pacifica didn’t know how to express herself other than to assert control and antagonize others. 

Mabel plucked the wine glass from Dipper’s hand and set both glasses aside on the bookshelf. Pacifica leaned back in the velour armchair. Waiting. 

Dipper awkwardly looked between Pacifica and Mabel, and then at his hand holding the wine glass. His shoulders were sloped and more relaxed, only slightly unhinged with anxiety. Compared to him, Mabel’s glass was is half-full. Warmth coiled in her gut. She wanted to be closer to Pacifica and thought this was the way, although it was a roundabout course. She stood on her tiptoes and looped her arms around Dipper’s neck. Her feet were skirting an inch from the ground, hanging onto Dipper, kissing him boldly and fiercely. His hands hung in the air uselessly. He was perplexed and shy. Anxiety spiked through him briefly and consciously. He was so consciously aware of being watched. He was used to dark rooms and halls, a quick peck on the lips and their clothes still on, Mabel’s skirt raised over her hips and panties pushed to the side. 

Mabel’s tongue parted his lips and he peered at Pacifica from the corner of his eyes, waiting for her to recoil in disgust. But she didn't. She leaned back in her chair, chin resting on the heel of her hand in intrigue, a glass of wine swirling in the palm of her hand. Their eyes locked and something else shot through his body, completely evaporating his nervousness. He found himself kissing Mabel ferociously, holding her by the small of her back. He felt her smile into his mouth and reached under his shirt. 

Dipper carefully set her back on the floor and she pulled the front of his shirt, bringing him down with her with a giggle. The fall was sudden but Dipper was used to it and they managed to land with only minor dings and scrapes. Desperately Mabel pulled his shirt off and for a moment, Dipper froze. He was self-conscious of the little roll of pudge he'd gained since the beginning of college. He expected Pacifica to make a rude remark or maybe laugh. 

Only Mabel laughed, not at his body, but at the way he nervously fidgeted under her. She planted a kiss on his stomach and several others followed as she unbuttoned his pants, and in one expert motion, pulled down his pants and boxers. 

His cock sprung out in front of her face. Mabel glanced at Pacifica, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Pacifica wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be mortified or be turned on. Somehow she managed all three.

Dipper didn't have time to be self-conscious of Pacifica laughing, unaware of the exchange between her and Mabel. Mabel’s mouth wrapped around him. She was warm and wet, teasing the head of his cock. His hands tangled in her hair and he bit his lip, thrusting into her open mouth. She moaned in response, the vibrations driving him so close to the edge that he had to pull back. 

He started to forget that they had an audience as Mabel slipped out of her sweater. She was braless and her skirt and panties joined a growing pile of clothes on the floor. Her long hair dusted over her small breasts. There were traces of glitter all over her body that made her sparkle under the chandelier lights. Only her smile rivaled the brilliance, wide and bright as she sunk into Dipper’s lap. He gasped, enveloped in her warmth. She was insanely wet. Dripping. More wet than he’d ever known. Over Mabel’s shoulder he could see Pacifica. He wondered if the heiress was aware that her legs were spread so far apart that the fabric of the pencil skirt was strained, threatening to rip. That he could see her panties through her nude pantyhose. 

It was the first time in years that Pacifica had allowed anyone to see her this vulnerable. Yes, she was aware that her legs were spread, but she didn’t realize she was biting her lip. Her eyes were wide, amazed that Mabel could take the entire girth of Dipper’s cock. She could tell their relationship wasn’t a recent development from the way they touched each other like a familiar winding road and the twinkle in their eyes, each fully invested in the other. 

There was some jealousy and curiosity. She wondered what it was like to have what they had, to be so close and unafraid of themselves and their feelings: bold enough to be close to another human being. Her feet planted themselves into the cold hard tiles, and, blushing, she also wondered what it would be like to be in Mabel’s place: in Dipper’s lap, her cunt stretched. She has a collection of sex toys, no stranger to the sensation, but she wanted to know what it was like with the real thing-- the sensation of skin against skin, and the warmth of another. 

Her fingers traced over her body and she rolled the tight pencil skirt up over her hips. Her hand dipped under the pantyhose and underwear, soaked through from her own arousal. Her eyes closed as she rolled her fingers against her clit. A moan escaped her and suddenly she felt the twins’ eyes on her. The wine glass shook in her hand. Mabel pulled back from Dipper and Pacifica instantly regretted doing this. She went too far and made them uncomfortable. Again. A voice whispered that she could just snap at them to continue. That had always worked before. But the look in Mabel’s eyes told her that force wasn’t going to work this time. 

Mabel knelt in front of her and tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear. She rolled the stockings and panties out of her way. Gentle hands held her knees apart and she leaned forward. She was a breath away from Pacifica’s cunt when she raised her gaze to the blonde and waggled her eyebrows jokingly. 

Pacifica laughed. The glass in her hand slipped and shattered on the floor. Her laughter slowly died into low coos and moans, Mabel clenched between her thighs. 

She didn’t notice that Dipper had joined them until Mabel’s moans buzzed against her cunt. Warm and sweet, he filled Mabel to the brim, rhythmically thrusting into her, watching his girlfriend drag her tongue along Pacifica’s slit. 

Mabel was an excellent multi-tasker, reaching both hands underneath herself, rolling Dipper’s balls in one hand and teasing her clit with the other. Pacifica’s hands knotted into her wavy brown hair, holding her in place. She was rolling her hips against that eager mouth. 

Dipper was the first to come, gripping Mabel’s shoulders like a vice. He groaned, upper lip curled, thrusting deeper and deeper until it was too much. Mabel wiggled her hips teasingly and Dipper hissed, agitated and muttering something about oversensitivity. 

He slipped out, his come dripping down her thighs. Mabel hooked her fingers inside Pacifica, rolling her thumb against her clit. She felt soft as silk, and her manicured nails dug into Mabel’s scalp. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop, don’t stop or else I’ll sue. . .” she cursed, making no sense.

She shuddered, realizing the tables had turned, feeling Dipper’s eyes on her and Mabel. She had her legs over Mabel’s shoulders, keening around his twin sister’s fingers. She grasped for some shred of her dignity, to hold back the waves of pleasure, but it all slipped away and she was a mess, bucking against Mabel’s face, her entire body hot and bright red.

X

The rest was a blur. She paused against the doorway to regain her balance, the room was spinning and it wasn’t the wine. She stumbled out of the room bow legged, her shoes and nylon stockings left behind. Over her shoulder, she assured them they were free to go.

She heard Mabel try to follow her. Pacifica was grateful the Northwest mansion was a large maze; she quickly lost Mabel and instantly regretted it. 

Face first in the satin sheets and covers, she went over the scenario over and over in her head. Sometimes she touched herself, sometimes she felt shame. She wondered if this was what they felt like when they first discovered their feelings for each other. Pacifica knew she was attracted to them both long before she found something to blackmail them with. What was she expecting, doing this? She had hoped for what ended up happening, but hadn't thought it would.

Now that it had she was a wild, twitterpated mess, smiling so wide and stiff her mom would think she had had a botox treatment. 

It’s not until days later that she finally calmed down enough to send another invitation. The message was oddly honest without the sting of passive-aggressive threats. No strings attached. No more blackmail. No more games. It wasn't like her, but she was ready to change.


	2. making these words up

Pacifica is used to getting what she wants, no questions asked. Just do it or you’ll get more than just a sneer. 

The whine that tears from her throat is alien to herself, to Dipper, and even to Mabel. She restlessly rubs against Dipper’s erection and tells him to hurry up already. The threats are empty and her breath hitches at Dipper holding her arms over her head, pinning her to the bed. Mabel is no help at all, tweaking her nipples and giggling.

“What’s the magic word?” Dipper grins, watching her struggle under him.

“Ugh. I swear to. . . I don’t know. Alakazam, shazaam?” 

“It starts with the letter ‘P,’” Mabel helpfully suggests.

“Pencil?”

Mabel grimaces, amazed. “Please. The magic word is ‘please.’”

“...Please?” Pacifica knits her brow. “Are you just making these words up?”

“Just say it.”


	3. All Bets are Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt an anon sent: "The Mystery Twins are determined to find out if blond is Pacifica's natural hair color. By any means necessary."

Pacifica’s thumbs hooked onto her pencil skirt, ready to drop it to the floor. She looked up, Dipper and Mabel’s gazes on her, and she hesitated. 

There was little to hide at this point. Her shirt was somewhere on the floor of the twins’ apartment and her bra hung on the bed post. Mabel had thrown her clothes off as soon as they all started getting frisky and Dipper was in his boxers, Mabel in his lap, both of them staring expectantly at the blonde. 

Pacifica drew her pink lips into a tight grimace and she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Okay, this was awkward. They were just staring at her and it was making her nervous. It wasn’t that she hadn’t had a Brazilian wax in weeks (she just couldn’t find the time to book an appointment), because she didn’t have to try too hard to keep up appearances with them. Mabel and Dipper were the only two who had ever seen her without make-up or designer clothes. And Mabel didn’t shave either. 

“What?” Pacifica finally bit out, perturbed.

Dipper jumped. “N-nothing. Just, ah...”

“We’re just enjoying the show you’re putting on for us, Paz.” Mabel winked. 

“Are you now?” Pacifica smirked, feeling a little better. “Knowing you two, you’re both up to no good,” she purred. She stared at them, taking in Dipper’s reaction. He flinched slightly. Mabel meanwhile had taken to wearing Pacifica’s bra like a bonnet. Although Mabel was more open than Dipper, it was impossible to read her most times.

Pacifica wondered what they were planning, her curiosity piqued. She slipped out of her skirt, then started to pull down her panties, her eyes locked on Mabel and Dipper, intending to be bold and sexy, but her ears turned bright red. Their stares were more intense, making her feel like a dozen hands were running over her, inspecting her naked body.

Pacifica cleared her throat and the two finally broke eye contact, turning to each other.

“You owe me fifty bucks, nerd!” Mabel exclaimed, pointing finger guns in the air.

“Mabel!” Panic rose in Dipper’s voice, making him squeak. His eyes darted between his sister and Pacifica, caught red-handed in whatever it was.

“Fifty big ones, bro.” Mabel crossed her arms, one hand peeking out, flexing her fingers in a ‘gimmee’ motion.

“Now really isn’t the time,” Dipper whispered, thinking Pacifica couldn't hear him. 

“The time for what?” Pacifica interrupted, planting her hands on her hips.

Dipper laughed dryly, nervously, but Mabel intercepted him. “Nothing to worry about, Paz. Just cashing in on our little bet.”

“Bet?” Pacifica crossed her arms, annoyed. “And just what was this bet about?”

“All I said was, ‘Wanna bet on it?’ That doesn’t actually mean I was putting money on the line. It’s an expression.”

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, broski. I’m sure if it was the other way around you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“Mabel.” Pacifica turned to her. “Explain this.”

Mabel laughed, not picking up the anger in her girlfriend’s voice. “Yeah! Dipper thought your hair was totally fake. Bottle blonde with extensions and I was like, nuh uh, have you even touched Paz’s hair, bro. It feels like alpaca wool!” Mabel stopped, gasping. “Pacifica...” She smooshed her cheeks, eyes growing big, “is your hair made out of alpaca wool?”

“You thought my hair was fake?!”

“Yes- I mean. No. No. Definite no. Honest.” Dipper glanced at the carpet; it was more forgiving than Pacifica’s glare. “Okay. Maybe a little bit. But this was before we were dating so it doesn’t count.”

Pacifica spun around, back towards them, taking in a deep breath. Mabel and Dipper tried to peer around to check up on her but then she turned back to them, exhaling. 

“Okay.”

“You know what. I don’t get why I’m the bad guy here, Mabel was in on it too-- ‘okay?’”

“Okay.” Pacifica confirmed with a brisk nod. “I mean, so what if you thought my hair was fake. I proved you wrong, didn’t I?”

“Right! Hah...” Dipper responded uneasily. He hadn't seriously gotten off that easily, did he? And to think, he was about to write his will out and tell Mabel he wasn’t giving her anything after she'd thrown him under the bus.

“So,” Pacifica said crisply, “where were we?” She stepped out of her black panties and joined them on the bed. Mabel moved out of Dipper’s lap, as if knowing Pacifica’s intentions. Pacifica’s hand cupped the front of his boxers, silencing Dipper’s moans with a hard kiss.

At first, Dipper resisted, moving out of her hands and evading her mouth. Something didn’t feel right. He was still dazed, unused to Pacifica’s temper settling so quickly, and somewhere underneath the flirty lilt in her voice, she still sounded mad. 

Pacifica fished his erection out of his boxers and pressed her lips against the head of his cock. 

His suspicions were quickly forgotten as he groaned, thrusting upwards between her pursed lips. Pacifica closed her eyes and allowed his cock to slip between her lips, drawn into a tight O. Her hand wrapped firmly around the base as she sucked and teased the tip with her tongue, driving him crazy. 

She moaned lightly, the sound vibrating against his cock. Dipper could see Mabel underneath Pacifica, her mouth glistening with the blonde’s wetness. His hands dug into the mattress, legs shaking. “Fu-- I’m gonna--”

Pacifica pulled back, wiping the side of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Well, that was fun.”

Dipper blinked back. “...Wha- what?”

Pacifica shrugged. “I said I was finished.”

“But. We were ... you were... I was going to. You know.” Dipper smiled sheepishly, confused and very afraid.

“And you deserve to come because...?”

Dipper swallowed. Oh shit. Shit. This was because he said her hair was fake.

He was in so deep that trying to make excuses would only bury him. He gave a resigned sigh. “I don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Pacifica said pointedly, lifting his chin up with her fingers.

“I don’t deserve to come.” He rolled his eyes. “Because I said dumb stuff about your hair being fake.”

“And?”

“...And me and Mabel made a bet over it.”

Pacifica nodded, satisfied. “Good boy.”

“I still don’t get why I’m the one getting blamed for all this.” Dipper grumbled, glaring at Mabel.  
Pacifica began to re-dress herself, despite Mabel tugging on her clothes and pouting. Just like Dipper, she was disappointed. Grudgingly, Mabel re-dressed too and Dipper followed, quieter than the two.

Pacifica decided they should go out to eat, hooking an arm around the twins’ arms. “Dinner is going to be on you, Mabel,” she said. “How much do you owe her, Dipper?”

“Fifty bucks?”

“Hmm. Not my normal spending limit but I can handle it.”

“Psst. Dipper. I think she’s still mad,” Mabel whispered.

“You’re just now getting this?”

“Hey. Don’t think I can't hear you two,” Pacifica huffed. “You’re just lucky I’m being merciful. I’ll like, totally forgive you after you buy me lunch.”

Dipper and Mabel’s eyes locked and they nodded, making a silent decision not to make bets like this ever again. 

Or at least not get caught.


End file.
